


in different towns, but in similar ways

by dontstansmosh (platinumbered)



Series: be your shadow [2]
Category: Smosh
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Implied/Referenced Underage Sex, M/M, Pining, Romantic Soulmates, Sexual Tension, Slice of Life, SmoshWritingWeek2019 - Day 2, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates, resolved offscreen dwdw
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-24
Updated: 2019-07-24
Packaged: 2020-07-12 18:15:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19950685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/platinumbered/pseuds/dontstansmosh
Summary: No matter what David does to try to convince himself he thinks otherwise, it’s true. What Wes had said.Just because you’re afraid of being my soulmate…David’s scared of one person, and it’s the only person that’s not scared of him. It’s almost sickening, really, how perfect they are for each other.Or, Wes & David learn that the concept of soulmates actually has some merit to it.





	in different towns, but in similar ways

**Author's Note:**

> for day 2 of smosh writing week 2019!!!
> 
> god this au,,, is SO good. a bitch really does love wescorn with their whole life. remember to read ‘tonight we’ll both go m.i.a.’ before reading this one!!!
> 
> title is from ‘be your shadow’ by the wombats!!!! the lyrics in that song go the fuck in
> 
> PLEASE COMMENT IF YOU LIKED THIS YALL!!!! i thrive on feeback!!!!

That day in the hallway has David thinking about kissing Wes a lot.

It’s like he’s memorized it. Couldn’t forget it if he tried. Wes’ lips were a bit chapped, rough against David’s own but still soft, somehow; the gum he’d just spit out made the inside of his mouth cold and tang-sharp. It had been brief, nothing but an experiment on Wes’ part, really, and yet here David is. Gutted.

He can’t help but entertain this possibility in his head--that maybe he’ll get to kiss Wes again. Replace the football players with this wide-eyed, earnest freak of nature, the only person he’s ever met who doesn’t seem to be scared of him.

_ Scared of him. _ Agitation replaces the deep flutter in David’s chest, so sudden and visceral that he has to go into the garage and whale on the punching bag hanging from the ceiling to ease his breathing.

* * *

(No matter what David does to try to convince himself he thinks otherwise, it’s true. What Wes had said.  _ Just because you’re afraid of being my soulmate...  _

David’s scared of one person, and it’s the only person that’s not scared of him. It’s almost sickening, really, how perfect they are for each other.)

* * *

A week goes by.

David’s getting antsy, fidgeting even in classes he doesn’t share with Wes. Tension keeps winding itself into his shoulders and refusing to unspool, no matter how many times he bruises his knuckles and tells himself that soulmates are bullshit.

Well, they are, he’ll think fervently, after a particularly loaded stare from Wes. This experience has done  _ nothing _ to dissuade him from that.

The universe is supposed to be impartial. Yawningly vast, but impartial all the same, and even if humanity doesn’t have all the science to explain it, it has  _ enough. _ Enough to tell why the sky is blue, what stars are made of. But there’s no--science for this. No rhyme or reason, no explanation. This? This is not  _ impartial. _ The universe is meddling in shit it doesn’t belong in, and for what?

What gives this bullshit system the right to decide the course of human beings? David’s not religious, but free will is guaranteed, no matter what you believe in, and this soulmate thing takes it away.

But.

Most of the time, Wes will just look at him. Study him, like he’s an equation to balance. Like David confuses him as much as he confuses David. But sometimes, he’ll smile.

That’s the worst, when he smiles. His eyes crinkle at the corners and his whole face brightens up, like smiling at everything and everyone doesn’t cost him a single thing.

Like smiling at David is the easiest thing in the world.

When Wes smiles at him, it’s easy to forget that soulmates are arbitrary and useless. Just for a second, it’s like the universe didn’t force them together, and David forgets.

* * *

It comes to a head eventually, because why wouldn’t it?

Wes does things that are as simple as swallowing or chewing on the end of his pencil, and it makes David melt into a puddle on the floor. Hell, Wes can make David half hard from across the room by just stretching his arms over his head. God knows they’d have to pound it out at some point.

It starts when they pass each other in the cafeteria bathroom. Which, fun fact, might qualify for the least sexy place on the planet.

It’s weirdly tense, without having other people as a buffer. As David’s leaving his stall, accidentally catching Wes’ eye in the mirror, it hits him like a lightning strike.

His hair is up, and he’s wearing a shirt so tight it looks painted on him. Fuck, it’s  _ so _ unfair that he even looks good in harsh-ass fluorescent lighting, as seems to accentuate his tan and the shine of his hair. Figures.

He does that--chin-tilt thing that always makes David want to hit him, but couples it with a goddamn  _ lip bite, _ and, okay, this is getting ridiculous. He doesn’t even say anything, just turns to leave; his shoulders flex beneath his shirt as he goes to push the door open.

And that’s it. David’s fingers itch, and then his legs are moving faster than he’d like them to, and his hands are reaching out to grab at Wes’s thin shirt to bodily shove him against the bathroom wall.

Wes makes a sharp, fleeting noise as his back makes contact with the painted brick, but it’s cut off just as quickly as David slots their lips together, hot and hard like he’s wanted to for  _ weeks. _ Wes gets his bearings quickly, sliding a hand to David’s neck to pull him closer.

And oh, god.

David’s pretty sure he's never kissed anyone properly before in his  _ life, _ because never, not once, has it been like this. It's like every nerve ending is sparking, white-hot with it, and Wes is just completing the circuit. Like his mouth is the only thing that makes sense. David keeps pushing him, pushing up with his chin until he's close enough to feel Wes’ heartbeat, thrumming like a bird’s.

He tastes like fruit gum this time around, sweet and cool, and his teeth are sharp when they catch at David’s lip, and it’s everything their last kiss was and better. David’s thinks dimly that he’s lucky Wes is strong enough to hold him up, because he feels like his knees might give out any moment. 

For a while, Wes allows David to pull him down, kiss him deeper, tug at the hem of his shirt. Frankly, it's a goddamn miracle no one comes in, because it's a public bathroom, for Chrissake. But no one does, and soon, Wes walks David backwards towards a different wall so  _ he _ gets to be the one pressed against it, and, well. That's new.

No one ever really took control before, out of all the guys David’s been with. It's  _ good. _ David preens under the change, lets Wes slide a cold hand up his shirt and mouth at his pulse point, and when Wes proposes in a hushed voice that they ditch this fucking joint and go spend the afternoon in Wes’ car, David agrees without a second thought.

* * *

(Their first tryst is--fast. Weeks culminate into something desperate and wild and over too quickly, and all in the backseat of Wes’ car, too--but David doesn't care. He figures, if anything else, they've got time to do it right.)

* * *

The thing with Wes is that he’s, well. Perfect.

As David hangs out with him more, he finds that they like most of the same things, aside from a  _ very _ differing opinion about pineapple on pizza. They both play all the same video games, and they're both good at history, and Wes is  _ funny, _ too. David can't remember a time before meeting Wes where he'd laughed to the point of crying, but now he does it all the time.

And, well. It's--nice. Having a soulmate who doubles as a best friend is nice, and David doesn't even wince good-naturedly when his mom kisses his cheek after finding out little Davey’s got somebody at last.

Wes is phenomenal company, and for the first time since he was seven years old, David’s beginning to see the point of this whole soulmate thing.

Sure, it’s still an arbitrary grouping method that prevents people from finding love on their own.  But it can’t be all bad. Not with Wes as the consolation prize.

* * *

“Do you ever think about it?” David asks drowsily one night, after their boxers are back on and they’re in post-coitus-pre-round-two limbo. Always a good time for hypotheticals.

“Think about what?”

David sighs deeply, feeling the pleasant twinge in his muscles. “What would’ve happened if soulmates didn’t exist.”

Wes tilts his head consideringly, like he always does when he’s thinking, and is silent for a long moment. David loves him like this. The sharp angles of his profile are stark in the light of David’s room.

“I think we would’ve found each other anyway,” Wes finally says. It feels simple when he says it like that. Like it’s only logical.

David’s throat closes up. “You think so?”

“That’s how it works, right?” Wes replies, blinking into a sweet smile. “The names just help a bit. But nearly everyone’s got someone. Only a matter of finding ‘em.”

David’s chest feels--not tight, but full. Full of something light enough to carry him away if he lets it. He has to close his eyes, can’t bear to see how earnestly Wes looks at him. “You really think, without the names, we would’ve…”

Wes smiles. “I think we would’ve gotten together  _ faster,” _ he says, raising his eyebrows, and David laughs with something a little like relief as he presses their foreheads together.

“I made fun of your name when I first found out,” David blurts out, all in a rush, touching the hard line of Wes’ jaw.

Wes’ eyebrows furrow, and he pouts playfully. David can feel it. “Well, that’s not fuckin’ nice of you.”

“Old man name,” David breathes through a laugh. Wes is laughing too, then, tucking his head into David’s shoulder so David can feel his breath there. In this moment, Wes is small. Even though he’s tall and broad and firm, he feels--soft. Doesn’t take much to hold him.

David’s heart swells in his chest, and he moves to say something.  _ I love you, _ probably.  _ I’m sorry I didn’t know how before, _ maybe. If not that, something equally as embarrassing. But before he can, Wes is pulling back and pressing up so his mouth finds David’s, clumsy and open, and then he doesn’t need to say it. He can tell Wes already knows.

* * *

(David thinks he’ll remember this kiss too.

And this one, and this one, and this one.)

**Author's Note:**

> remember to comment if you enjoyed!! <333


End file.
